


Take the time to lay it on the line

by disjointed_scribblings



Series: the whole mix tape [1]
Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Definitely Requited Lust, F/M, Light Angst, Love/Hate, Possibly Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension, suggestive gear shifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24692845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disjointed_scribblings/pseuds/disjointed_scribblings
Summary: Until the truck incident, Darcy Fitzwilliam had been doing a pretty good job of ignoring her inconvenient attraction to Leo Bennet.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy
Series: the whole mix tape [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857073
Comments: 17
Kudos: 158





	Take the time to lay it on the line

It was all the truck’s fault, or so Darcy Fitzwilliam later told herself in consolation. 

Until the truck incident, she’d been doing a pretty good job of ignoring her inconvenient attraction to Leo Bennet, with his twinkling eyes and his expressive face and his broad shoulders. Leo Bennet with his henleys pushed up to the elbow and his almost constant five-o’clock shadow and his hair always flattened by that stupid sports hat. Leo Bennet with his awful country music and his ridiculous redneck family and his gas-guzzling, half-ton truck. Leo Bennet with his big, restless hands and his unironic plaid button-downs and his loud, enthusiastic laugh.

Yes, he was the kind of man who laughed with his whole body, face screwed up, eyes twinkling, leaning forward to rest those big hands on his strong thighs, and Darcy had been doing an excellent job pretending she didn’t find that hot as hell. All through the summer spent in some miserable rural town with nosy neighbours and uncomfortably conservative politics, she’d successfully tamped down her reaction to him. Even when he showed up unexpectedly here in Hunsford, visiting his friend Lucas who worked at the same university as Aunt Kit, Darcy pushed aside any feelings to focus on the purpose of her own visit. 

And then she had to get caught out in the pouring rain. 

When a blue pickup truck pulled up beside her and Leo Bennet rolled down the window and called out, “Darcy? Can I give you a ride somewhere?” she was too cold and soggy to feel anything but relieved. 

It was only after she clambered up into the passenger seat and shut the door behind her that she realized she’d miscalculated. The truck was higher than any other vehicle on the road, and that combined with the rain lashing down on the windows and restricting visibility gave the cab of the truck a feeling of intimacy. 

And then there was Leo himself. Despite the November chill, he’d pushed the sleeves of his lumberjack jacket halfway up his forearms. She could see the dark hairs on the back of his arm — darker than the hair on his head, which always made her wonder about the rest of him. 

“Raining pretty hard out there, eh?” he said eventually, and she welcomed the distraction of conversation. 

“Indeed. Thank you for stopping for me.” 

“Couldn’t let you stay out there looking like a drowned rat,” he replied without taking his eyes off the road. 

She couldn’t tell if he was trying to insult or tease, so she let it go and just looked at him again. 

He drove confidently, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear shift. Darcy couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in a car with manual transmission. It wasn’t the kind of thing that should be sexy. But somehow this man calmly and competently controlling a massive, many-horsepower vehicle did something to her. No matter how many times she reminded herself it was a gas-guzzling, environment-destroying nightmare. 

She was distracted from the gearshift by the hand on the steering wheel. Restless hands, she’d noticed the first time they met. Now, stopped at a traffic light, his fidgety fingers apparently couldn’t sit still, and his thumb was stroking a pattern on the wheel. 

Immediately she went so hot it was a wonder her damp clothes didn’t start to steam. God. What was wrong with her? 

The light blinked an advance green and her gaze was drawn again to his hands as he gently eased the stick from neutral to first gear, and then second. This did not help matters in Darcy’s pants. 

“Look, my hands are at ten and two like a good boy.” 

Leo’s sudden statement startled Darcy out of her thoughts. Thank God. “What?” 

He nodded towards the steering wheel, where his hands were now in textbook perfect position. 

“I don’t follow.” 

Leo raised an eyebrow. “I bet you don’t drive stick —“ indeed — “but let me assure you, Ms. Darcy, there’s a good reason I have to take one hand off the wheel, so no need to scowl when I’m shifting gears.” 

Well. So he’d noticed her fascination with his hands, but had come to the entirely wrong conclusion.

“I wasn’t scowling, just looking. I’ve never been inside a pickup truck before. It’s very interesting.” 

“Interesting?” he scoffed. 

“I find new experiences interesting.” 

He laughed at that. “For sure. That’s you, always on the lookout for new experiences to learn from. You’re such a keener. But you were definitely scowling.” 

This time she was pretty sure he was teasing, but it still disconcerted her enough that she answered without thinking. “If I did make such a facial expression, it’s probably because I was caught in the rain and I’m still very wet.” 

Well, damn. 

As soon as the word left her mouth she regretted it. Especially since it was true, in both senses.

Why, oh why, did she not say damp, or soaked, or some other unsexy word? 

But Leo only sent her a quick glance before returning his attention to the road. “Sorry, should have asked. Are you cold?” 

“Quite warm, thank you, just waterlogged.” There, suitably unsexy, especially when said in her sternest tone of voice. 

“Okay. Good. After all,” — he paused, and then to her shock, sang in a surprisingly smooth baritone, “Nothing lasts forever in a cold November rain.” 

Darcy could only stare. 

Was… was Leo Bennet really singing a Guns n’ Roses song to her? 

“It’s from a song,” Leo said quickly, a touch of pink across his cheekbones, when she didn’t say anything. 

“I know. It’s not a country song,” was the only thing she could manage. 

“I don’t only listen to country.” 

“No, country and apparently old rock ballads.” This was new and interesting information. Although his taste in music left much to be desired, apparently there was room to grow. 

His cheeks were definitely pink now. “Well, whatever. This is the right street, eh? Which one is your aunt’s?”

* * *

Darcy thought about that wash of pink later that night when she was alone in Aunt Kit’s guest room. About how he’d stopped for her, and she’d made him blush. About the huskiness in his voice when he’d sung her that unexpected snatch of melody. About big hands, restless fingers. About that bite of tension that was never too far away when they were in the same space. 

And she thought that it just might work. 

Not for the long-term, of course. Their lifestyles, their values, were not really compatible.

But for a fling… 

Once, over the summer, their heated debate on the pros and cons of the agricultural supply management system had cut off abruptly, Leo’s eyes widening as he backed up a step. It was only then that Darcy had realized how close they were standing, mere inches between their faces — and Leo’s gaze had skated to her mouth and away, so quickly she couldn’t be sure if that was what really happened. She’d convinced herself that she was projecting her own addled attraction onto him and tamped it all down. 

But that blush… that gave her pause. The overwhelming sense of awareness this afternoon, she didn’t believe that it was all her, that he didn’t sense it too. 

She’d drop him a line tomorrow, invite him for drinks — 

Darcy paused on the heels of that thought. She didn’t have his email address. She didn’t even have his phone number. They _weren’t friends_. They’d spent the summer trying unsuccessfully to avoid one another and making snippy remarks when they were forced to be in the same room. 

Which was fine. They didn’t have to be friends. Once they got the elephant in the room that was their explosive sexual chemistry out of the way, Darcy felt confident that they’d be able to get along well enough for what she had in mind. 

But it wasn’t exactly a conversation she wanted to have over Instagram DM. She’d just have to drop by and seduce him in person. 

Decision made, she went to start her night-time skincare routine in preparation for bed. 

And if she accidentally put hyaluronic acid on her face three times because she distracted herself wondering if Leo Bennet kissed like he laughed — all enthusiasm, no restraint, giving his entire body over to the moment — well. Her skin would just be extra hydrated, that was all. 

* * *

It wasn’t until the next evening, when Darcy was standing outside the semi-detached bungalow shared by Aunt Kit’s assistant Collin and Leo’s friend Lucas, that she realized that she’d been so busy imagining how the night might end that she hadn’t prepared what to say to get to that point. 

Well, she had come this far. She’d just have to wing it. 

She rang the bell. 

When Leo opened the door, confused furrow on his forehead, the half-formed hope that he would just sweep her into his arms and she wouldn’t have to say anything popped like an overfull balloon. 

“Darcy? What are you doing here?” 

So she was definitely going to have to say something, then. 

“Can I come in?” 

He was wearing track pants and a t-shirt with a faded sports logo on it, and somehow seeing him in the clothes he clearly wore to relax added another layer of intimacy to the moment. Darcy shivered. 

“Collin’s not here. Lucas either, for that matter.” But, ever the gentleman, he stepped back and let her in. 

Darcy dropped her coat and colourful fall scarf on the back of a chair in the front hall. When she bent down to unzip her heeled boots she was conscious of Leo watching. 

“What’s up?” he asked, once she’d kicked off the boots. 

She could see through to the living room from here, distantly heard the sound from some sort of sporting event coming from the TV. There was an open bottle of beer on the coffee table — Steam Whistle. Okay. A local craft beer would have been too much to hope for, but at least he wasn’t doing something atrocious like drinking Labatt Blue straight from the can. She could work with Steam Whistle. 

Then again, it might be from Lucas or Collin’s beer stash. 

“Darcy?” 

Right. Leo had asked her a question and was still waiting for an answer. 

“This is a nice place,” she said, because she had to say something, and commenting on the space gave her an excuse to glance around instead of looking at him. 

“Uh huh.” 

“Convenient that it’s close to campus, too.” 

“Well, that’s all relative. When Lucas and I were in university we lived right on campus for all four years.” 

“I didn’t know you went to university.” 

When she dared peek at him, he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at her. “Do you need to see my transcripts, or will you take my word for it that I have a degree in agricultural sciences?” 

She swallowed against her jangling nerves. “I trust you.” 

He snorted. 

Trying for seductive tone of voice, she asked, “You’re alone tonight?” It came out sounding awkward.

“Yeah, Lucas has a late meeting. And Collin’s at some thing that your aunt’s involved with, which you probably already knew.” 

Another long silence, and then Darcy licked her suddenly dry lips and said the first thing that popped into her head. 

“I think we should fuck.” 

God damn it.

_This_ was what happened when she tried to wing it. Another deposit in the bank of awkward moments for her to review when she couldn’t sleep at night. Not that she needed more — she could dive right into a pool of them and do a backstroke like a cartoon billionaire. 

Leo’s arms fell to his sides. “What?” 

“Well. Um.” Now that the dam had burst, Darcy’s words just flowed straight out, bypassing any kind of filter she might normally have had. “Obviously, there’s some chemistry between us, and ignoring it isn’t making it go away. And believe me, I’ve been trying. Do you think I want to be attracted to you? It’s not very convenient, and you’re not really my type. I’m sure you agree that a relationship would never work between us. Our lives are clearly too different, and we value different things, and our families — well, anyway. But reminding myself of all that hasn’t stopped me from wanting to screw your brains out. And now you’re here and I’m here and — I think we should. And who knows, maybe Chuck and I will end up back in Meryton again next summer and we can do that, you know, summer... fling... thing...” 

Shutting herself up before she went too far down that garden path, she looked to Leo for his reaction. He continued to stare at her. 

In the living room, the TV blared on through their silence, the audience cheering and jeering at whatever game was being played. 

Still nothing from the man in front of her. 

“Leo?” she tried after another moment. 

“Uh.” He ran a hand over his face. “No?” 

It was her turn to stare. 

“No thank you?” he said.

She opened her mouth, found no words, closed it, tried again. “No?” 

“No, I don’t think we should fuck. Ever.” 

Well, this was not going to plan. 

Shame, embarrassment, and frustration slithered through her. She’d thought he was interested. Had she been wrong? 

Before she could think twice, she said the second thing that was going to haunt her for years to come. 

“Why not?”

He tensed, hands fisting. He wasn’t just rejecting her, he was _angry_. “Let's see. You don’t want to be attracted to me, I’m so inferior to you in every way that you would never lower yourself to date me, and you hate my family so much you can’t even talk about them,” he rhymed off sarcastically. “All very flattering. Well, I’m sorry, I may be just a simple country boy in your eyes, but I have a little bit of self-respect, and I can keep my dick in my pants. So no, I will not be taking you up on your offer to bang it out of our systems.” 

That wasn’t what she’d meant. She could feel the old familiar frustration frothing up again, at not being seen, not being understood, and it mixed poorly with the shame of rejection. 

Damn it, she should have prepared better for this conversation. 

“But,” he continued, now sounding disgusted, “even if I didn’t object to hooking up with someone who clearly sees me as some kind of uneducated backcountry hick, I definitely draw the line at getting into bed with someone who hurt my family.” 

What? 

“When did I ever hurt your family?” 

“Or maybe you break up relationships so often you don’t even remember my brother.”

It took her a moment to understand what he meant. “That’s not on me, that’s on John,” she said, angry now herself. “You just accused me disrespecting your family, but I was only protecting mine.” She’d seen first-hand what clandestine relationships did to her kind and generous best friend. Chuck gave everyone the benefit of the doubt, so Darcy had to doubt men for him. “Chuck deserves to be in a happy relationship with someone who isn’t hiding it because he’s trapped in the back of the closet, and John didn’t seem that interested in making it work. All I did was give Chuck my honest opinion. If I was wrong about that and John was serious, I am truly sorry, but maybe he should have manned the hell up.” 

Leo shook his head, as if he was trying to deny her statement. But instead he said, “There’s more.” 

“Oh, wonderful.” 

“Maybe you thought you were being a good friend to Chuck. But how can you possibly defend what you did to Jordana Wickham?” 

“Jordana _Wickham_? I don’t know what sob story that con artist gave you.” This was unbelievable. Darcy felt herself laugh, even though nothing in the whole situation was funny. But of course Jordana was the kind of woman Leo would like. Down to earth and always up for a laugh. As a child she’d played sports and video games and claimed she didn’t “do drama”. She’d said scornfully that she wasn’t _like_ those other girls — and that Darcy wasn’t like other humans and shouldn’t be allowed out in public. But that wasn’t why Darcy hated her. 

“She’s a dedicated businesswoman who’s trying to put her life back together after you ruined it!”

“Oh, she’s calling herself a businesswoman now? Please don’t tell me you’ve invested any money in her business. It’s either a scam or a pyramid scheme.” 

Leo looked affronted. “It’s not a scam. She’s selling herbal teas and supplements that use Indigenous healing principles, based on recipes that she got from her grandmother.” 

Darcy had thought that nothing Jordana did could surprise her anymore, but this did. 

“From her grandmother? Pretty hard to believe, considering her grandmother was Greek. This is absolutely a scam, and cultural appropriation too.” 

Leo threw up his hands. “You’re still trying to drag her down? I don’t know how you can set yourself up as this high-and-mighty feminist and then destroy women who are actually trying to do the work to — “

He was clearly just repeating Jordana Wickham talking points now. Darcy had heard enough. 

“I get the picture. You think I’m some kind of monster who ruins people’s lives for my own entertainment. Or maybe you’re just saying that because I wounded your ego. My bad. I should have come in here and played it up, pretended that of course I love the idea of hooking up with a grown man in his thirties who still lives with his right-wing parents and only listens to country music and has a carbon footprint the size of a small European country. God! Men!” She sat down and started yanking her boots back on. “Should I have played the damsel in distress? Let you feel superior by rescuing me? Or maybe I should have stayed quiet and let you neg me.” 

Leo made an outraged sound. “Jesus. That’s just — you know what, I’m not even going to address that. It’s not relevant. How the hell did this become my fault? I don’t know what your problem is, but I didn’t start this. I would not have started this. You could have come in wearing absolutely nothing under that jacket and sat down naked on my lap and I would still say no.” 

Darcy froze halfway through zipping a boot. “That’s… a specific image. And somewhat questionable grammar.” 

“Seriously? You’re correcting my grammar right now?” He shook his head with a sarcastic little laugh that she really, under the circumstances, should not find so compelling. “You’re not as hot as you think you are. Do other men really fall at your feet the second you say the word? You’ve been looking down your nose at me ever since we met, judging me, my family, my friends, my town, my entire way of life. And you think that I’d sleep with you if you only asked nicely? You’re a coldhearted bitch and fucking snob, Darcy Fitzwilliam, and I knew within five minutes of meeting you that I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.” 

Enraged, she stood. 

It was only then that she realized how close he’d moved. There were only inches between their faces. He was in socks, so her heeled boots put her almost at eye level. 

Fucking _great_.

“Gee,” she said with the most biting sarcasm she could muster, to hide the hurt, the anger, and the fact that she was still very much affected by his closeness, “thanks for the comprehensive assessment of my character, based on a snap judgement, an unfortunate conversation, and two incidents you weren’t present for. I’ll absolutely take that into account. I’m sorry I bothered you.” 

“You always bother me,” he snarled, and she could feel his breath on her face. 

And then her back connected with the wall and her front connected with Leo. 

His kiss was fierce, aggressive. She barely had time to process the feeling of his lips on hers before he plunged his tongue into her mouth—something she ordinarily might have found disconcerting, but right now, frustrated and edgy and nearly goddamn feral, it was exactly what she needed. So she gave right back as good as she got. It was less a kiss than a physical continuation of their verbal confrontation, tongues thrusting, hands grabbing, bodies battling for dominance. She shoved her hands into his hair to pull his head where she wanted it, and he retaliated by pushing her body harder against the wall, his erection hot and heavy against her stomach. And then, Jesus, ] then, his hands were on her, big and firm and _right_ , cupping her face and her neck and her shoulders, brushing against the sides of her breasts as he ran them down her body, bracketing her hips and squeezing her ass. Instinctively she parted her legs, and he took the implied invitation, brushing against areas that made her squirm, and she was so fucking wet she’d probably soaked right through the thin fabric of her ponte pants, and then he moved his fingers in just the right way and she gasped. 

Leo froze. 

Apparently one gasp was all it took to break the spell. 

He pulled back, not looking at her. She let him go, put a hand to the wall for balance as he turned away. For a moment there was nothing but their heavy breathing, echoing through the front hall. 

Over in the living room, whatever sports game had been on TV was now over. Through the pounding in her ears, she could vaguely hear the sound of the post-game analysis. 

If that kiss were a competition, part of whatever messed up power struggle they were having, then Leo would be the winner. He’d made her gasp with wanting him, and he’d been the one with the clarity of mind to stop. 

But — she’d been right. 

First, she’d been right that he was interested, that he wanted her. Even if he didn’t want to want her. She’d misunderstood so much, it seemed, but she hadn’t misread those signs. 

And second — oh, she’d been so right about how thoroughly he kissed. And now she couldn’t un-know what it felt like to be kissed by him. 

Damn, but this whole thing had been a bad idea. 

After a minute, Leo spoke. “This never happened.” 

“Of course it didn’t,” Darcy replied, the hurt filtering back in as the desire drained out. “I’m a bitch, right? You wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole. That’d be a frosty Friday in July.” 

A long exhale. “I’ll get you an Uber.” 

As if she needed another reminder why this had been a stupid idea. 

“You will not,” she said, gathering up the tattered shreds of her dignity. “I refuse to participate in the app-enabled gig economy that is destroying the fabric of the social safety net and setting our generation up for long-term economic disadvantage. I’m calling a cab.” 

“Jesus Christ,” said Leo, and crossed into the living room to drain his beer from earlier. 

Picking up her coat, Darcy went outside to wait for the cab. When the cold night air hit her lungs, she started to feel some of her sense returning. 

What the hell had happened in there? 

Leo Bennet hated her so much that he couldn’t even hate-fuck her when he wanted to. 

Darcy shivered against the November damp and the recognition of just how badly she’d miscalculated. 

It wasn’t, she understood now, just about the sex. It was also about his ready laugh and genuine smile. The obvious devotion to his family. The easy affection he gave to friends and neighbours. The dry witticisms that went over the heads of many of said family, friends, and neighbours.

The way he’d rushed over when his brother had been injured, not stopping to change out of his farm clothes. 

The way he’d never punched Collin in the face no matter how tempting the provocation. 

The way he’d stopped to pick her up in the rain.

The quiet intelligence and solid integrity at the backbone of all his actions… 

God. She was halfway in love with him. And he hated her. 

And maybe he had good reason to hate her. That was the worst bit. Darcy had spent her whole adult life being sure of her opinions, her perceptions. She sometimes judged people with different views, but then who didn’t? 

But maybe she shouldn’t be so sure of her own judgement after all. She’d been very wrong about Leo. 

She was right about Jordana. Darcy clung to that certainty. And she’d stand by what she’d said to Chuck about John. 

Although… 

Leo’s words, his disgusted tone, played on a loop in her head. Was she really so cold, so selfish, so conceited? 

Her thoughts circled until she felt dizzy with them. When the cab came, she put in her earbuds and cued up November Rain, because she clearly had a self-masochistic streak, and then went online and moved up her return train ticket. 

It was only standing in front of Aunt Kit’s front door, taking a few steadying breaths so she could make the dash up to the guest room unnoticed even if her aunt was home, that she realized she’d forgotten her scarf. 

* * *

After a night spent tossing and turning and tormenting herself with alternating recriminations and justifications for her own actions, Darcy was startled to see Collin arrive at her aunt’s house, her scarf in tow, as she finished packing her bags. 

“What’s that?” asked Aunt Kit sharply. Aunt Kit had enough of the second-wave feminist ethos left in her to always be suspicious when a man did an unasked favour for a woman. 

“My scarf,” Darcy replied. “I thought — where did you find it?” 

Collin gave her a smarmy grin, but then, smarminess was his standard setting. She shuddered as she took it from him, wondering if she was just as un-self-aware. 

“Leo Bennet found it in his truck,” Collin said, more to Aunt Kit than to Darcy. 

Well, thank God for small favours, anyway. Apparently Leo was as loathe as Darcy for anyone to know she'd been over last night. 

Aunt Kit swivelled her sharp gaze from Collin to Darcy. “And what was your scarf doing in Leo Bennet’s truck?” 

“He gave me a ride home the other day when I was caught out in the rain,” Darcy said, running her fingers over the soft wool as though it had been missing for a year instead of a night. 

Aunt Kit sniffed. “The other day? Why did he wait so long to return it? Suspicious timing.” 

But Darcy had no more patience for her aunt’s nonsense. “If he’s being polite, the least I can do is reciprocate. Collin, if I write up a thank-you note, can you bring it to him?” 

* * *

On the train that afternoon, Darcy listlessly watched the countryside fly by outside the window, feeling wrung-out. Hollow. 

Strange to think that only forty-eight hours ago she'd been climbing into Leo's truck and losing her mind. 

She’d written him a note explaining about her sister and Jordana, about Chuck and his shitty exes. About how it felt to be powerless to stop the two people she loved most in the world from hurting. 

Collin had promised to deliver it, but she had no way of knowing if he had, or if Leo would read it, would understand and forgive her actions, would pick out the apology hidden between the lines. It probably wasn't an adequate apology even if he did find it, a vague allusion to insular communities closing ranks against anything new or different, and how that had always brought out the worst in her. 

So she had no way of knowing if Leo would read her letter or what he would think of her if he did. It didn’t matter much, since they were unlikely to ever see one another again. Leo would forget about the whole... kerfuffle... soon enough. But Darcy wouldn’t forget. 

Oh, maybe she’d forget Leo eventually — as impossible as it seemed right now. Forget Leo, with his flashing eyes and his sarcastic smirk? Forget Leo, with his big heart and surprising blushes? Forget Leo with his ironic quips in conversation and ready arguments in debate? Forget Leo’s hands, strong and hot and moving restlessly on her body? 

No, she wasn’t going to forget Leo anytime soon, and she was never going to forget how she’d felt last night. 

Seeing her flaws so clearly through someone else’s eyes, seeing how her words and actions were received so differently than she’d meant them, had been startling and devastating. She never wanted to feel like that again. 

Darcy vowed silently to the dreary November landscape that from now on, she’d act the way she wanted to be seen. 

And that she would never let herself be seduced by a truck again. 

God, how _fucking_ embarrassing. 


End file.
